It had been a lonely couple of years since my husband walked out on me for his co-worker. That bastard claimed the world would never be the same since the pandemic interrupted our lives. He stated that he only had one life to live, and he wanted to fulfil all his dreams, goals, and fantasies. Our son and I just were not part of his future. Looking back, I guess I may have had some suspicions of his cheating, but I believe I ignored them because I just didn't care.
At the time of this story, it had been nearly a year since my divorce was finalized. I was fortunate enough to find a work-from-home job during the pandemic. I will never be rich, but I did earn enough to take care of myself and help my son when his part-time job just wasn't enough.
"Bruh," the fully developed voice said, as my son entered the kitchen.
"Braxton," I said as a sarcastic warning to my son as he poured orange juice into a glass. "What did I tell you about calling me, Bruh?" I asked with a hint of annoyance in my early Monday morning voice.
"Would you rather me call you, Lori?" he fired back.
I could see the smirk grow into a full-grown smile as he momentarily turned toward me. My son graduated from high school a few months earlier. He had grown into a handsome six foot-two tall man. As he sipped his drink, I couldn't help but notice that the years on the swim team and the hard work in the gym had paid off. He was by no means one of those guys who spent six hours a day in the gym with the goals of being a bodybuilder. Braxton had a slim, but chiseled physique.
"How about Mom?" I asked. "Or I'll even settle for Ma at this point." Secretly, I wish he would call me, Mommy, as he did when he was my little boy. "What plans do you have this weekend?" I asked, just trying to get my son to have a conversation with me. It's no secret that Braxton and I hadn't been very close since his father left. A fifteen-year-old boy needed his father. I did the best I could over the previous three years, but I know I wasn't what a young man needed.
He wiped a fresh waterdrop from his chest with an index finger. I watched another droplet fall from freshly showered dark hair as he turned toward the sink. I watched as his muscles flexed nonchalantly as he reached for the faucet.
"Well," he began as he rinsed his glass in the sink. Amanda and I are going out Friday night to celebrate our one year together." Braxton slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts as if he was readjusting the elastic. "I made reservations at Julios."
*** ***
Later that day, I arrived home from the gym. Like many other people, I gained a few pounds during the pandemic and then adding a depressional divorce sure didn't help. I was finally down to my goal of one hundred fifty-five pounds. Although, I would never be able to fit into my high school-day jeans, because of the curves my body has taken since childbirth. I was happy to work off some of the small pouch and excess fat that had gathered around my belly.
I steered my car into the driveway and parked beside my son's girlfriend's car. Amanda had been spending a lot more time at our house since her and my son graduated. Amanda had a dominant personality who surprised me sometimes with the things she said and did. She and my son began dating the previous Summer, just before their Senior year began. She was different than the other girls my son dated or talked to in his earlier years. Amanda was more mature and sometimes a little demanding, but Braxton sure seemed to love her, and I wasn't going to stand in their way.
As I entered the house, I pulled out the hair tie, allowing my long, wavy dark hair to rest on my shoulders. I sat down my gym bag and went straight to the kitchen. I wasn't really surprised to find the downstairs to be empty as I guzzled a bottle of water. After tossing the empty bottle in the trash, I pulled the bottom of my sports bra away from my sticky skin, allowing the d-cup girls to momentarily breath. Braxton and Amanda spent a lot of time in his bedroom when she was over. As an adult, I felt as if I knew what they were doing in there, but as a mother, I wished they hadn't.
As I climbed to the top of the stairs, I could hear faint heavy breathing. Again, as a mother, I could have gone the rest of my life without hearing that. My son's door was cracked open about two inches. Like a pervert, I stopped at his door and peaked inside. The room was dark except for the soft light emitting from the television. I leaned my head a little to the right and could see my son's bare and hairless body grinding up and down on Amanda. I froze in what I thought was shock, but later realized it was curiosity and envy. After what felt like minutes, but was actually a just few seconds, I witnessed Amanda turn her head slightly toward me. I locked my eyes on hers as I tried moving away. If there was a version of sleep paralysis that can happen when you are awake, I was experiencing it. At that moment, I should have ran away, or Amanda should have screamed, but instead, she flashed me a devious smile.
"I'm cumming," she whispered, between breaths. Amanda kept her blue eyes locked on me as long as she could before they began rolling back. "Right there, baby, don't stop," she said aloud, but as if she was saying it directly to me.
Braxton pulled his right leg up toward Amanda, unknowingly exposing himself to me. I knew I should have fled, or at least, walked away, but Amandas delightful expressions had my feet cemented to the floor. I could hear the faint slapping sound of my son's balls hitting his girlfriend's ass every time he thrusted deep inside her. The air filled with the sweet aroma of passionate love making.
Braxton forced Amanda's left leg up and her ankle to rest on his shoulder and pulled himself up onto his knees all in one move. "Oh, my God," Braxton sighed. "You feel so good."
"Fuck me hard," Amanda demanded. Her whimpers of ecstasy turned into full blown screams as my son, my darling son, my rock-hard son, drove deeper inside her. "Do you like it?" she asked, still looking at me.
At that moment, the cement broke, and I was able to pull myself away from the door. I hurried straight into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I didn't even bother touching the knob for hot water, because I definitely needed the cold shower that was about jolt my body and soul back to reality.
After the long cold shower, I headed downstairs to prepare dinner. My son's bedroom door was completely closed, so I assumed they were still in his room. I was not ready to see the girl whom my son just fucked into oblivion. When I turned the corner into the kitchen, I was met by a chipper blonde who wore the largest smile. She gleamed with satisfaction. I stopped in my tracks.
"Hey, Miss Lori," Amanda greeted me. Not surprised by my lack of ability to speak, she added, "Braxton and I are going make some dinner. Please join us." She reached toward me with a glass of wine. She had to take my hand and force my fingers around the glass.
"Hey, mom," Braxton said, as he dumped a box of pasta into a pot of boiling water. "It's not going to be anything fancy, but we'll cook for you tonight." He cocked his head to one side and then asked, "Is everything alright?"
I silently sat down in a chair at the round kitchen table. I sat nearest the door, in case I needed to run away. Even though, I had no idea where I would run to or how far I would have to go to avoid the interrogation of my watching the two of them. Nearly stuttering, I simply said, "Yes."
